Denial
by Evil Turkey
Summary: Rated 'R' just in case. Convinience stre hold up. Who's POV? What will happen? Hard to summarize, you'll have to read.


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BTitle:/B DenialBR  
BBy:/B Shattered / Evil TurkeyBR  
BWarnings:/B Death, angstBR  
BArchive:/B Just ask first, otherwise, no problems here!BR  
BDisclaimer:/B I stake no claim whatsoever to Gundam Wing or it's characters. I claim the rights to this fanfiction's idea and have yet to see a story like it. To those people who have written a similar fiction, you have my sincere apologizes.BR  
BAuthor's Random Inane Notes:/B Okie Dokie. Here it is, another one of my angsty one-shot fics. I'm sorry for the angst overload, but I'm afraid that it seems to be my area of expertise. If you do not like stories with gobs of sadness, dislike fics with death, or are softhearted, I do not advise you continue. For those of you who enjoy that sort of thing, read on my friends!BR  
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The happenings around me are speeding past with nauseating swiftness, and yet they are traveling so slow I can see and understand every detail of every action. From the tears of the little girl clinging to her mommy's coat bottom to the red faced man behind the counter; holding a high powered hand gun. Deep inside I feel a tightening sensation. I feel it swell and settle behind my eyes. No; I refuse to cry in such a little crises. I survived a war without a single tear damn it, why should a little convenience store robbery bring on such emotion?  
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Because your going to die.  
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Whoa, where did that come from? I survived battles, exploding mobile suits, the war that surpassed all wars! Hell, I even survived marriage, child birth, and the terrible two's. Twice on the latter two! How could I die in such minor situation? I won't!  
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Why did that sound so loud? Since when did gunfire become louder then exploding gundams? Oh good God...he shot the little girl.  
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Watching the blood stream heavily from the still little body, I remember what happened to Natalie three years ago..  
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~~~Flashback~~~  
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"MOMMY!!!!!!!!"  
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The cry of a little girl shattered her ears and tore at her heart and soul. Something had happened to her little girl. Dropping the antique china plate she had been cleaning she raced to the front yard where her precious little girl had been playing. There she saw her sprawled on the green lawn, screaming with hot tears streaming steadily down her flushed red cheeks, clutching her right arm. Running to her she set out to find the cause of her baby's agony. In horror she found her shoulder dislocated and her arm broken. Kissing her furiously she murmured soft words of encouragement before screaming for her husband to call their doctor and to get the car started....  
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~~~End Flashback~~~  
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I know what that mother must be feeling, for in those first few seconds I felt that same terror and anguish for my own little girl. But I was fortunate, my baby wasn't murdered, in cold blood, before my very eyes.  
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I force my gaze away from the gore and deafen my ears to the mother's gut wrenching screams as she cradled and rocked her baby, her clothing soaking in the blood of the dead girl. Instead I look into the eyes of the man responsible for this tragedy. It scares me, because in those eyes I see nothing. They are empty, void of anything and everything that comes with one's humanity.  
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I see him aim his gun again and I see it fired for a second time. I don't hear the gun go off, but I notice the void of the woman's cries. Slowly, I turn my numb body back to find the woman lying limp and bloody, the girl still in her arms. Slowly I feel a small smile come over my face. I am happy for the woman. She didn't have to suffer the death of her little girl for very long, and they are both together again.  
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"Now, don't nobody else make that much racket or I'll haffta do something drastic 'gain."   
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Man, he has really bad grammar. He must have dropped out of school or something. What? This crazy shell of a man just shot a little girl and then her mother, and then threatened to do the same to any one of us if we didn't keep quiet and I'm thinking of his grammar?  
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Your going into shock.  
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There it is again, that voice in my head that sounds so calm and sure of itself. No, I'm not going to die. I'm not going into shock. I am going to get the other's along with myself out of this. Then I'm going to give my statement to the police and then I'm going to go home and love on my husband and my precious children. I'll take a long, hot bubble bath and maybe get hubby to give me a massage. Then I'll gather my happy family and hold them all close and fall asleep with them near; safe and sound.  
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Oh, the very thought of it makes this whole situation not nearly as dreary. Ugh, that sounds so terribly selfish, but I can't help what I feel.  
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Now, I have disarmed dangerous men bigger then this guy hundreds of times. One of the perks of being trained for war. Now, if only he would move to the right a little more I could make my move....  
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~*~*~  
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Today, I died. I was shot once in the chest, and again in the forehead. Oh, but don't feel sorry for me, it only hurt for a split second. Then I was engulfed in such a tranquil, comforting warmth I could barely remember the heavy, ugly emotions I had felt just moments before. Though it didn't really feel like moments; more like years and years before, like a memory, kind of faded around the edges and a little blurry in the middle. You know that kind.  
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What about my family? Oh, they will grieve for me, but I have faith that they will move on. I know that one day we'll all be together again, so I won't worry. As if I could. Such emotions don't exist in this place. Is this Heaven? I'm not sure. I'm not all that concerned with giving it a name, a title. I'm happy, and filled with simple, pure serenity and peace. If this isn't Heaven, or at least a hold place for it, I don't know what is.  
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Duo Maxwell was my dear husband and my eternal soul mate.  
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Natalie Ruth Maxwell was my firstborn daughter.  
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Daniel Kurtis Maxwell was my second born and first son.  
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My name, was Hilde Schbeiker Maxwell.  
/P 


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